长安无缓步,况值天景暮。
相逢灞浐间,亲戚不相顾。
自叹方拙身,忽随轻薄伦。
常恐失所避,化为车辙尘。
此中生白发,疾走亦未歇。
In Chang'an, a leisurely stroll was impossible.
And then, it was getting on towards evening.
We happened to meet there along the river.
And it's not as if we were related.
I sighed at my own clumsiness and then,
Suddenly, I was caught up in your playful spirit.
I'm usually afraid to lose myself like that,
Afraid my life will blow away like dust.
There I was, grey-haired, and actually
Scampering, not even stopping to rest.
Everything about this poem places it in Meng Jiao's early forties as he struggles to pass the imperial exams.
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